


Little Devil

by Pizelle



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Little Crowley, Parent Aziraphale, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:48:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24518704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pizelle/pseuds/Pizelle
Summary: Crowley gets discorporated and has to assume the form and behaviors of a child until his new corporation is ready. Luckily his best friend is there to help.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 101





	Little Devil

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my very first Good Omens fic. (I am not from England so I apologize if anything sounds strange.) In this oneshot, Crowley has physically regressed, so while he is present in mind and memories, his physical form and his emotions are childish.
> 
> Please let me know what you think and enjoy! Thanks for reading!

It was the end of 1980, and Aziraphale was looking forward to a Chicago-style frank from a diner near a grandiose hotel of which he had a reservation for within. The job he was sent there for was done, and he was looking forward to a nice quiet evening with a new story written by a man with the last name of Adams before heading back to London the next day.

Yes, it was just an average assignment for the blonde, but with a bit of travel involved. Doing something out of his comfort zone was a nice change of pace, and rarely did he get chosen to go to the US after the 1920's.

The angel was ready to leave the restaurant when a weight latched onto his pant leg tightly and clung to it like a fire pole. Startled, Aziraphale struggled to keep his balance, and it was hard to tell if it was his reaction that frightened the cashier, or whatever it was that latched onto his customer.

"I want one too!" A little voice requested.

Aziraphale glanced down with a furrowed brow, but his eyes widened at the entity holding on tightly to him. _"You!?"_

A tiny redhead in a black jacket, not much bigger than a fire hydrant, looked up at him with a fanged smile and bright yellow eyes. He started to sway, still attached to his befuddled Adversary as the hot dog seller stared at him with confusion.

"I want a hot dog, I want a hot dog, I want a hot dog," The boy chanted.

"I am not buying you a hot dog!" Aziraphale said sternly. "How did you get here?" He asked in a harsh, half-whisper.

"I'll tell you if you buy me a hot dog." The child smirked.

There was no doubt about it. This humanoid child was the demon Crowley.

"You can buy your own hot dog." Aziraphale said. "Let go at once."

Crowley pouted. That was one disadvantage to this corporation. It was too emotional. But it would have to do until the paperwork was processed for a proper replacement. How was he supposed to know there was going to be a major earthquake in Italy while getting a bottle of his favorite wine?

"Go on." Aziraphale nodded.

Crowley couldn't believe it. The angel was just going to shoo him off.

"...But _daddy_!" He whined, wrapping his arms tighter like a snake's coils. 

The angel gulped. It would look terrible of him in front of patrons nearby if he just left Crowley there to fend for himself. Especially after the little demon called him 'daddy'. And so pitifully too.

"...A second hot dog, please." Aziraphale sighed, holding out the payment after it was prepared.

"With ketchup!"

"Absolutely not! _Do you know where we are?_ "

Of course Crowley would put ketchup on a hot dog in Chicago.

Hanging the plastic bag with their hot dogs and two cans of soda pop packed inside around his arm, the angel held out his hand to Crowley. "Come along, dear boy. We'll eat this at the hotel."

Crowley giggled and took hold of as many of Aziraphale's fingers as he could wrap his own around, and walked beside him inside the hotel lobby. It was gorgeous on this inside, and the demon examined his surroundings in awe as Aziraphale led him to a couch with a decorative coffee table nearby. The hot dogs were placed side by side, and Crowley quickly took his before climbing up onto the couch.

"Careful now, you'll get crumbs all over." The angel was still quite perplexed and slightly annoyed by the demon's new form.

Crowley growled in annoyance. "I know how to eat, _dad_."

"About that: I am not your father, nor will I play the role in whatever your evil scheme is today."

"I'm on leave, angel." Crowley pouted, then took a big bite of his food.

"On leave? But why? You're the favorite, aren't you?"

"Yup!" Crowley smiled proudly, then frowned. "But some things...went down, quite literally, and my corporation got destroyed, soooo here I am, Anthony J. Crowley, boy wonder."

Aziraphale was so confused, that he was eating his lunch much slower than Crowley for once. "Destroyed!?" The principality said softly, but with shock.

"Yep." Crowley stuffed the last third of his hot dog into his mouth, cheeks puffed out like a hamster's before swallowing like a snake. "This is all they could give me." Crowley put on fake confidence, standing on the couch cushion and resting his hands on his hips.

"Get down! We do not stand on the cushions, young fiend."

"I'm not actually young! I'm still me, Aziraphale. Ngk!" He grunted in surprise when Aziraphale manhandled him into the proper seated position.

"But you look it. Do _not_ cause a scene. Now go on and get going wherever it is you plan to go. I'll be flying back to my bookshop in the morning."

"But I came all this way to find you!" Crowley kicked the bottom of the couch in frustration, since his legs weren't long enough for him to stomp.

"And you found me! It was really a pleasure to see you again-"

Crowley put on his pout again.

"Oh, now what? You're a demon. You'll be fine on your own. You're just a few feet shorter than usual."

"..." Crowley looked at the door, his bright yellow eyes behind his kiddie sunglasses starting to well up. He hated that too. His new corporation burst into tears whenever something didn't go as planned. But at this moment, it would do two things:

1\. It would attract sympathy from everyone around them.

2\. It would actually work in convincing the angel to help him.

And that was because, while his new body was very emotional, his tears were not false, either. He was small, he was scared, and he wasn't used to his new body at all.

"...dear boy." Aziraphale stood up and pulled Crowley up into his arms, giving him a warm hug. "You should have stayed safe at home in your flat." He scolded lightly, miracling their garbage into the trash while everyone was distracted by their embrace.

"But..."

"But what?"

"But it's scary all by m'self." Crowley admitted into Aziraphale's jacket, dampening it with tears. Yet another flaw of his temporary corporation: lying was very difficult, especially in front of adults.

Aziraphale's heart ached again, patting Crowley's back as he stood there holding him while the boy wept. He sighed, adjusting his grip on the tiny terror and walking towards the elevators. "Come along, you'll stay with me for now." He finally broke down. "But you are not to go off on your own until your new corporation is ready."

"Thank you 'ziraf'll."

"And you owe me for this as well." Aziraphale added, the little redhead nodding as was their Agreement. With a small smile, the elevator doors opened, and the angel entered the car. He knelt down to hit the buttons on the panel, and soon they were rising up quickly.

Crowley was still clinging to him fiercely and the waterworks were still present.

"There there." He whispered. "You'll get through this and...well...you'll be tempting people left and right without fail! Right? Big, scary Anthony J. Crowley!"

The little devil couldn't find comfort in that. Not yet. It sounded like it would be awhile before he'd be able to transfer.

Aziraphale opened up the door to his room with a small silver key, and he sat Crowley on the end of the big king-sized bed inside and began to tug the jacket and rubber toed sneakers off of his little companion. Crowley let out a little giggle when Aziraphale lightly tickled under his feet.

"Let's dry those tears." Aziraphale smiled. It was so unlike Crowley to look so sad, let alone cry. He covered Crowley's nose with a tissue. "Blow your nose...very good." The angel smiled. "See? Better already."

Crowley slid off the bed and began to look around while Aziraphale slipped into the bathroom. The boy grabbed the tv remote and turned it on, scrolling through the channels while the angel examined the free offerings in the loo. He didn't need to see the screen to know that Crowley had found and stopped his surfing when he saw a cartoon playing.

The big black box would effectively distract Crowley while Aziraphale filled the tub with water and soap. Little did young Anthony know that the angel wouldn't be the one washing himself in it.

"Crowley, would you come here please? I noticed...by the, slight odor hanging near you...that you likely haven't had a bath in a day or so."

Crowley grew defensive, shutting off the tv. "I'm fine! I'll miracle myself clean!"

Aziraphale stepped out of the bathroom and waited for Crowley to do so. Crowley could always just think of a miracle and it would be done. But no matter what he did, nothing seemed to be cooperating. "Ngh!"

"I have reason to believe that your miracles aren't working anymore."

"Everything was hunky dory this morning!" Crowley growled. "It's how I got here!"

"Come along, dear boy. Nothing wrong with doing things the human way."

And so Crowley found himself in the tub, arms crossed and really mastering his pitiful pouting and scowling as his friend washed him clean. Though it wasn't all bad: a toy version of Noah's ark seemed to find its way into the bathtub, complete with a couple pairs of plastic animals inside. The little redhead enjoyed some time in between washing and getting his hair shampooed helping the animals get from one side of the tub to the other. There was water all over the floor and all over the angel and his book, but Aziraphale couldn't bring himself to be angry. Crowley was so sweet, and it seemed like this was a grand opportunity for him to relax. Plus Crowley'd always admired and protected children; why shouldn't he get to indulge a little and go about without worry as one himself?

A few more miracles were performed before the boy started pruning, and Crowley was bouncing on the bed in red plaid footie pajamas while Aziraphale polished off a few more chapters of his book. If Crowley did happen to get too close to the edge of the bed, he always seemed to bounce back towards the center, even if it didn't look like he would. If Aziraphale had thought keeping Crowley under control would be a chore, he was definitely thinking otherwise by now.

"Mmph." Okay. There were _a lot_ of downsides to the child corporation. It ran out of energy rather quickly. While adult Crowley loved sleeping, little Crowley seemed to dislike the idea. Granted, he'd only been in the body a short time, but going to sleep meant that he might miss out on something fun (What exactly it was, he was never sure) or that some sort of monster he materialized in his imagination might actually be something real and something that he no longer had the power to protect himself from.

Crowley tried to stifle a yawn and turned on the television again, hoping to find something fun to watch other than late night talk shows. The Golden Girls had yet to grace the screen at that period in time, so he surfed until Aziraphale turned the television off with his own power. "I was watchin' that, angel!" The boy indignantly fussed.

"You are a terrible liar." The angel approached his newly acquired charge and picked him up with ease. Crowley surprisingly didn't put up a fight until he watched the bed sheets get pulled down.

"I'm not sleepy." Crowley whined, then promptly yawned again.

"You can barely keep your eyes open, dear boy." Aziraphale countered.

"Nooo." He hissed, tugging on Aziraphale's vest. "You're not going to bed yet! You're gonna stay up and read that dumb book all night."

"...Actually, I was thinking of hitting the hay, as they say, as well. It's not quite my taste in fiction." Which was a flat out white lie. Crowley would have been shocked had he successfully perceived it, but he truly was too tired to tell. "Come on now, you get the other side, and I'll sleep here."

Crowley sunk into the plush mattress as Aziraphale pulled the linens up over both of them. But when the light went out, he panicked. "No!"

"What's wrong now? You're awfully finicky about going to bed."

"Can we keep the lamp on?"

"How ridiculous, you can't sleep with the lights on." Aziraphale scowled, thinking the idea quite silly until he saw the uncertainty in the boy's eyes. Crowley was on the verge of tears again. "...Come here, little one." The angel pulled Crowley beside him, and suddenly white, fluffy wings appeared to canopy over them both, glowing with just enough light to make the child feel more secure while not being a bother to the angel. Crowley would surely poke fun at the angel later for humming a lullaby to him and kissing his forehead gently, but he wouldn't for the time being. Because at that moment, he felt many things that he'd thought he'd long forgotten over millennia:

Warmth, comfort, safety...and love.

(Also, Aziraphale could poke fun back with all the cute things the demon had done that evening.)

Crowley curled up closer against Aziraphale's chest and sighed, letting himself drift off. "G'night, 'ziraf'll." he murmured as he fell into slumber.

"Good night, Crowley. Pleasant dreams."


End file.
